A Problem for Two
by FandomIsMyLanguage
Summary: This is a story of what happens when John gets turned into a woman and what happens in consequence. Please give it a chance. Johnlock to be determined. Fem!John, gender swap, gender bender. PLEASE REVIEW, COMMENT, FOLLOW.
1. Chapter 1

_I do love playing with John. He's so easy to get to, literally and mentally. How long has it been since you've talked to him? I think you should meet him at the place we met. Don't be late :)._

_ -JM_

The moment Sherlock saw the text his blood felt like ice. Sherlock wondered if this time the threat was real, from what he deduced, the threat was real. He ran out in the middle of a triple homicide and simply told Lestrade, "John" and proceeded to leave in an urgent rush.

When he arrived at the pools he didn't find much, just Moriarty and a petite blonde woman. Jim didn't have any weapons or snipers, but the woman was bound and gagged giving him an upper hand. Sherlock looked around for John, but there was nobody else. " Looking for someone?" drawled out Moriarty, " You won't find him." That made Sherlock feel stupid. _Why would he give John back? It's not like he owes you anything, he clearly wants to use him as leverage, but for what? He's made it quite clear that I have nothing of value for him. So why bring me here? And what is that girl doing here? She's clearly here against her will, is somewhat familiar with him,she knows what he's capable of and is a lot like John. Too much like him. _"I know that this is going to sound ridiculous" and just like that Jim got up and left a note.

_Wondered what happened to your John? Why don't you ask the girl?_

_ -__JM_

The poor girl's eyes bore into him almost killing jim with her glare. He untied her and took off her gag and the first words out her mouth were, " About time you bloody moron I thought I was going to die like that! Had to take your buggering time didn't you?" Sherlock was surprised at the way he was treated, "Is that how you treat your savior?" "If you're going to be like that _piss off_!" Sherlock didn't wish to communicate with her anymore so he went off to Baker Street to deduce some more. When he finally arrived he decided that if he went into his mind palace he could sort everything.

After deducting that he did not indeed ingest some kind of drug he wondered what would happen if he called John, nobody answered. Sherlock went off to John's workplace and inquired to find that he disappeared when he went off for a lunch and didn't come back. Sherlock needed to talk Mycroft knowing that he could do something about John's disappearance. It was just a matter of sucking up his pride, but for John he really would do anything.

_Need some of your assistance._

_ -SH_

_Oh my. How I've yearned to hear those words. They're sweeter than the crème on cakes, and you know how I adore cake. What has caused this memorable occasion to occur?_

_ -MH_

_John has disappeared._

_ -SH_

_Oh I know. I know where he is. Don't you worry everything is under control. You can relax, John will be back in no time._

_ -MH_

_Why didn't you tell me sooner? You knew and didn't tell me, why?_

_ -SH_

_I had things John and I needed to discuss. _

_ -MH_

_When can I see him again?_

_ -SH_

_Depends._

_ -MH_

_On what?_

_ -SH_

To that Mycroft didn't respond and it angered Sherlock. He decided that he would just wait until Mycroft was done with John, and he would come back like always.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So basically my Internet has been down. Not sure when it'll be back so until then you have this. Also I might've posted a new fanfic if not just wait. Enjoy!**

_How it all had happened:_

John had just goone off onto one of his usual lunch trips to Angelo's when he blacked out after he had tasted a batch of biscuits that were on the house. This happened on occasion ever since he had arrived one fateful afternoon and had unwittingly answered Angelo's question of, " You and Sherlock still together, you know seeing each other?" John had taken this as a question that meant that Sherlock and him were friends so he stupidly said, " yes, as a matter of fact I see him everyday," that made Angelo smile and only later did John reliaze his mistake. Thinking nothing of it he took a bite of it, something felt rather off but if being a soldier taught him one thing it was: food is food no matter how strange, gross, or little. He ate until he felt full, paid, started walking when he suddenly felt like he could pass out, and consequently did. As he fell to the ground a cab pulled up to where he had just fallen almost as if they were following him. The person then put on a little act about how he was doing so good about staying away from the drugs and as to why start now.

When John woke up he was bound, gagged, and blindfolded. He felt vastly different, in one too many ways. He felt pain in nearly all his body, his head was throbbing and spinning, it didn't feel like he had been shot but it was deffinatly up there in the list of pain he felt. What scared him the most wasn't how the pain was caused but where he was. For all he knew he was on a ship sailing to France to never be seen again. "Hello John." John immediately recognized the voice, "I bet you feel like hell right now, but you're just a pawn in my story so I don't feel too bad. Actually I don't feel bad at all. Oh and your headache, you think it hurts now, just wait 'till you see light!" His blindfold fell form his eyes onto the floor and indeed his headache only increased. Moriarty then went on about a rambling about heroes and something about Sherlock losing all trust in John, but he couldn't listen, something was off. "In case you haven't noticed you're now a woman. I know what you're thinking, 'But I was only out for a few minutes' yeah no." Moriarty then said something about advanced sciences and his network. " Also John, about being a woman, I can change you back but why bother? It's not like I have anything to lose, not like I really care. Going back to a man would be a bit troublesome because the operations do cost a bit of money." Then he wrote a note and waited, it seemed forever since he had heard Sherlock's voice but he mainly wanted to break free. It took an eternity to break free and when she did she had a little spat with Sherlock. When he left she checked if the cost was clear and walked out the pools. When she found a telephone booth she called Mycroft having seen the number far too many times. " Who is this?" " John." She replied although it sounded like a lie her voice having raised an octave or two. " Really, because John doesn't sound like a girl, so who are you?" John was getting exasperated, " Let's see you have a brother named Sherlock who often pokes fun at your weight and role in the government, the first time we met was when you threatened me into a black car where I met a girl who called herself Anthea and didn't look up from her phone. I was then driven to a warehouse where you attempted to bribe me with money to spy for Sherlock, I refused, then we went on about trust and battlefields." Mycroft was clearly thinking about whether or not John was indeed John, " Alright, but do know that the ride will have arms," seemed fair so John agreed. In a matter of minutes she walked into a black car and when she sat down she found herself surrounded by two people and felt rather uncomfortable in the way they were staring at her. After having met Anthea John figured that it be best to not attempt any small talk for they might take it the wrong way and they were holding some loaded guns. John sat in silence through the whole ride hoping Mycroft would realize it truly was John.

When they finally arrived at yet another warehouse John felt the spark of hope diminish at what he concluded: Mycroft was wary of John. Feeling as though he had started back at square one he internally groaned and got off, the guards following suit. When he got off he noticed Mycroft was standing with his umbrella awaiting him. Upon seeing John he frowned and said, " You most certainly aren't John," this was going to be harder than what John anticipated. " Well you see I was kidnapped by Moriarty and he told me this was his work." John felt as though he was emasculated, which he was technically done during the surgery. " That quick. No you see that type of technology doesn't exist _John_," Mycroft said his name like one might to an imposter. " He said that his technology was very advanced," John nearly felt like crying, which made him wonder if he had been injected with hormones. " There is no technology that advanced." Mycroft looked at John as if he were explaining how books worked. At that moment John lost it, it was the straw on the camel's back. " So you're telling me this is all an illusion? Doesn't _feel _like an illusion, oh I know why because it's _real_! I don't care about what the government knows and doesn't know but all I know and need to know is that this permanent! So Mycroft please shut up about you and the government because I DON'T CARE!" Then John collapsed and started crying having taken in too many things. " Let me see your shoulder" was all Mycroft said, understanding his motive he showed him his scar. " Alright I'll take you somewhere for the moment to clear this out."

**A/N: Do you hate me? Don't worry we'll be getting to Sherlock's reaction soon enough but I'm still not done doing things to John. Also should there be Johnlock? Thank you so much for your comments they really are appreciated because it helps me to know what you guys want. Comment and follow please do all of those things that help me improve.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Internets up! Yay they meet in this chapter so that's good. Bit angsty.**

_Around three days have passed, John has been staying with Mycroft, and he now trusts her. As for Sherlock, let's see how he's doing._

_**Sherlock's POV:**_

Sherlock felt the nicotine patches get into effect but somehow they didn't have the same soothing effect they usually did. After adding several more patches he still didn't feel better he started to look for his cigarettes. "Ms. Hudson! Ms. Hudson! Hurry it's an emergency!" Sherlock shouted while making a mess of the flat. "Sherlock! Sherlock, I'm here what's the emergency?" She looked worried and started to look around for an attacker. " Where are my cigarettes? I need them Ms. Hudson. Where are they?" Ms. Hudson instead reminded him, "We destroyed them all, and nobody is going to sell them to you so do you want a cuppa?" Ms. Hudson knew that this was all because John hadn't been near the flat in several days and it was driving Sherlock mad. "Where could he have gone? He's obviously with Mycroft, but where?" Sherlock then started pacing back and forth like a caged animal. " Oh, Sherlock I bet if you asked him nicely he'd tell you," Ms. Hudson reasoned, " Maybe, Sherlock, maybe he's" Sherlock then erupted with, "NO! He's can't be dead, I know he's not dead. Mycroft wouldn't be so cruel as to lie to me." Ms. Hudson rushed off to make tea and for once didn't lecture him on the state of his kitchen but made him a tea. He sat done and tried to think of places he could of gone but Mycroft had no definite location, he had multiple homes and favored none. Trying to expand his horizon he couldn't think of anything, but Mycroft hadn't given anything away. John hadn't used his credit card or anything track able, via web or homeless network.

Sherlock felt like he was bored but worse than that, nothing could take his mind off the fact that John was missing. Nothing could let him escape it, no matter how many times he stored it in his mind palace; it just popped up and wouldn't go away. For once he found peace in sleep, and he slept excessively only coming out on occasion to eat, and when he was awake he would check his phone, and find no message. He felt a void in his being, an empty hollow one that surprised him. Was he giving up hope, was he done with searching, could he accept John was dead? No, because somewhere, somehow, despite all the clues telling the opposite he felt, no _knew _John was alive.

_About a week since John's kidnapping, still no sign and Mycroft won't answer to Sherlock's constant pestering. Let's check on Sherlock._

Seven days, six hours, thirteen minutes, and twelve seconds since John had been kidnapped and Sherlock was still counting, he would keep counting, be he only had so much hope. Normally didn't allow himself to have feelings, but he was always making an exception for John. John was somehow the one oddity Sherlock could allow; he worked with him, lived with him and somehow had grown attached to him. It was a sight to see the sociopath making an exception, only to have his newfound heart broken and crushed. Sherlock was different without John, and everybody could see. On the sixth day Sherlock had been called to assist the police officers, he didn't jump with glee or bellow with happiness, he simply went told them what they wanted and left. While on the crime scene nobody taunted him or called him names, they just let him be. He tried arguing with Sally but her insults were half hearted, nonetheless Sherlock felt a little better.

_**John's POV:**_

After his meeting with Mycroft John had been taken to a fine hotel, and paid under an alias. He was treated to a wonderful suite, with a complete search for bugs and that sort. Bodyguards were discreetly placed in the neighboring rooms, and John went to sleep feeling exhausted. When he woke up he texted Mycroft on what his plans were and Mycroft told him that Anthea would be arriving soon. Within minutes of the message Anthea got into his room and told him they were to go purchase some clothing. They got John measured, bought several bras, they also bought knickers, but hey were boy shorts despite Anthea's suggestions. It turned out Anthea could be quite friendly if over the discussion of clothing and if ordered to be friendly. John's clothing style hadn't particularly changed; he still loved jumpers and got several ones, his personal favorite a sky blue one that apparently matched his eyes. Women were given the ability to wear skirts without a second glance, but he steered clear and bought jeans. By the end of the day he had several bags and was ready to return to the hotel.

When he arrived he folded all the clothing and took the suitcase the bodyguards had used as a prop to make the vacation look real. He packed away the clothing and took out he sleeping wear Anthea nagged him into wearing, he complied by buying a midnight blue silk shirt and pants as well. He drifted off to sleep thinking of how long he could evade Sherlock.

The following days were used to settle into his body, he got a checkup, he got a new name, Mycroft had a therapist come in and talk to him and several problems were resolved, and any questions John had he got answered. One of his was: so how female am I? To which the doctor responded with: As if you were born one. The following day, on the seventh, he requested one final talk with the shrink and he told her that he felt confused about the sexual attraction to other people. When he was a man he was a heterosexual one, did that mean he would be a straight woman as well? Or would he be a lesbian, but in his mind be straight? All his feelings were so muddled because mentally he was straight, but physically he was gay. He didn't think being gay was a bad thing, but he had heard the way some people used it, as an insult. He explained it and his feelings he got a simple, " John, maybe you'll find someone you can love with the mind, that or you could be bisexual." John personally thought that if he wanted a spiritual guru he would find a con paid to be one as for the second he could live with that.

_**Back to Sherlock:**_

Fourteen days had passed, he wouldn't go into details or else he would drive himself more rabid. One time during the past two weeks Mycroft had texted, Sherlock in all his excitement was nearly bouncing off the walls. He got dressed quickly and was quite disappointed when all that was on his phone was

_Patience –MH_

Sherlock nearly started crying. There was nothing else there, nothing of John's safety or his health. He hadn't even told him how long until he could see John. Back to the present day, Sherlock was watching crap telly, almost as if he were hoping somebody would yell at him to shut up. He nearly didn't hear the buzz of the phone over the roar of the television and over his own screaming. When he heard the insistent buzzing he nearly leaped up with joy, but this time he was a bit more cautious. He prodded at the phone like one might to a dead person. When it lit up he read the person's name, it was Mycroft, and careful to keep his feelings in check he opened the message.

_Meet me and a special someone at Angelo's, ASAP. Don't bring anybody._

_-MH_

Sherlock didn't know what to do; he just stood there dumbstruck. He wasn't sure if this was a cruel ploy or an actual meeting. He dashed off and took a shower and rushed off in a hurry to Angelo's.

_**John's POV:**_

After two weeks John finally felt fine in his own skin, literally. He missed Sherlock, and wondered how he was holding up. Being the sociopath that he was, he was probably happy to have the freedom to make as many experiments without getting reprimanded about the mess he had created. He was probably happy he didn't have to get dressed everyday, he was probably happy he didn't have an idiot to distract him from work anymore. Yet somehow John wanted Sherlock to miss him, to have been searching for John.

He told Mycroft he was ready and wanted to be reunited with Sherlock. They chose Angelo's because it was the first place he could think of. After they had set the time Mycroft gave John time to get ready. After deciding he would wear some Jeans, and the light blue jumper, Anthea barged in and shouted, "Oh no you don't! You are not wearing clothes like that to the most romantic get together of your life," Anthea nearly ripped the clothes off her hands. " I searched forever until I found this so you better wear it because I did not spend four hours shopping with you for you to wear that!" John looked at the dress she was holding, it was a navy blue, with long sleeves and went down to her knees. It was made of a soft nearly downy fabric and looked like it could keep someone warm. "Alright, fine, I'll wear it," and Anthea had a glint of success in her eyes and she waltzed away phone for once forgotten.

John was nervous for the meeting and Mycrft looked as if he were preparing for something. On the car ride there John made it quite clear that Mycroft would not be the one to inform Sherlock. "Do you think you'll be able to do it? How about we make a signal if you want me to do it, how about you rub your nose? That's pretty subtle and yet it won't be mistaken." John nodded and agreed to it.

_**Sherlock:**_

He arrived at Angelo's without a care in the world as to whom he hurt. He arrived there and estimated he had trampled at least five people but he didn't care, he just wanted to get there. Angelo immediately spotted him and tok him to a reserved table to find nobody there. "He told me to tell you to wait, this isn't a joke," and left to get Sherlock something. In came in a pretty blonde in a blue dress that was clearly uncomfortable surrounded by such wealth and then followed the nosy git Mycroft. The girl intruiged him, she was from a military life, he didn't know too much about her because clearly the clothes were picked out. If he could get his hands on her phone, or even her purse he would get something but how could he get his hands on her phone? "After this I have places I need to be, would you mind if I used your phone to look how the weather's going to be?" Instead of getting an answer from the girl he got a simple, "14 degrees, wind to the east, and it's going to rain so you're probably going to have a raincheck," from Microft's lackey, Anthea, who kept her eyes on her phone through the whole thing. "Thank-you" Sherlock said through gritted teeth. Instead of making a scene he simply asked the girl, "Were you in the war, or were you a nurse, or what did you do?" Instead of looking shocked of his deduction she simply said, "I don't know, why don't you think?" The she gave him a look John often would, one that said, "amaze me." Her similarties to John were nearly painful, it was as if she were his twin and they met by some cruel joke. He turned to find Mycroft and Anthea to have disappeared without a sound which was amazing due to his keen senses but this woman was… distracting. There was something about her, he had met her in the pool. Who was she that Mycroft felt the need t reintroduce them. Then out of nowhere, slurred and rushed came, "SherlockI'mJohnandyouneedtoknowthat."

**Yeah.I'm an awful person. Go to the poll on my profile for fem!John's name or comment it, I don't care. Thank you guys for your support and Johnlock is in progress. Comment, follow, all those good things, they help!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello there! First off thank you beetransfan, I used you suggestion, her is Joan and I have some explaining to do. Finals week is this week... For my school. So that's why there's a lack, also it was a hard chapter to write. His Last Vow also occupies my mind. Point being... Enjoy!**

Sherlock just stood there and he felt off, and then the lights blacked out and he felt his feet fall. When he woke up he was in the flat, and Mrs. Hudson ov=obviously didn't know because she would've been fretting over him. His head was in an awful lot of pain and things looked a lot darker, except her. The woman claiming to be John was litten like an open fire at midnight. She was sitting next to him looking at him worriedly. As soon as she saw that he was fine her shoulders relaxed, she started to say something but he cut her off by saying, "You're not John silly, you're a woman." He then proceeded to look around for the actually John, but didn't find anything, and he still felt lightheaded. " You think you're John, even have the tremor, maybe even scar, but John was kidnapped and found in am matter of hours," he was very tired and talked in a ditzy manner. " Why don't you rest? I'll bring you some tea, since how long haven't you eaten?" She resembled his John greatly, always worried for his health. "I don't know, I ate something this morning, or was it last morning? I honestly don't know all the days sort of blended together." She nodded grimly and told him, " Stay there and rest, tell the nurses if you need anything, I'll get you something the cafeteria." Only when she mentioned nurses did Sherlock realize he was in a hospital.

When he tried to get up to leave he felt all the blood leave his head and he immediately befriended the floor yet again. The stunning woman came in and saw him writhing on the ground trying to stand up but still collapsing. She put the food down and rushed over to him and started scolding him, "I told you not to stand up! What's the first thing you do? Stand up! Now why did you try to stand up?" Sherlock still felt bad from standing up so he decided to wait until he could at least stand. He didn't want to tell her it was because he wanted to leave so he told her, " I was going to the lavatory, is that a problem?" She stared at him like he had just tried to convince her that the sky was purple. "Really? You do know the door is on the other side right? As in the side opposite from where your bloody clothing is, nice try Sherlock, but I am a doctor." To that Sherlock responded, "Like John." She was quite clearly peeved but told him, "Oh yes, I also the same buggering wound, in the same shoulder, and if you can ask me any questions John can answer please do." She was glaring at him now exasperated she had to for once, explain something to him in his condescending voice. "Nope not John, because John was a male, and you are natural born female," he said slowly as if explaining to a three year old why no meant no. Her stormy countenance then all broke way to a calm expression, "Didn't want to do this but alight, you forced me to, don't say I didn't try. I wish you the best of luck." The lady got up, gave a grim smile, and walked out.

After the exit of the mysterious woman who was single, no kids, an army doctor, no pets, and was rather poor left he felt confused. What had just happened? She left with her purse, meaning that was probably the last he would see of her. After about ten minutes there was somebody coming to Sherlock's room. In came Mycroft with a pleased smile on his face. " I told you you're bad habits would always be worse than mine. Here you are, all de to you're lack of nutrition." Sherlock shot him a glare; somehow the blonde knew his brother and his distaste for him making him wonder about her relationship with Mycroft. He didn't have any friends, only lackeys and other government officials, so what was she to him?

The pretty lady came in and he noticed a slight blush in Mycroft and a slight dilation of his eyes. So, Mycroft had finally found himself a girl that could stand him, if it weren't that she returned none of his feelings giving Sherlock a strange feeling in his stomach. It was assurance and so many other things, all because the girl didn't return Mycroft's feelings, and it gave Sherlock an odd sort of satisfaction. Then she started whispering things into his brother's ear, and because the girl was a considerable amount shorter than Mycroft she had to stand on her tip toes and supported herself by resting on hand on his shoulder and her hair was tickling Mycroft, Sherlock felt the feeling go away only to replaced by a sick one. When she finished no doubt telling him about Sherlock she simply left and didn't say a word. He felt odd without her, lonely almost. " Who was that? Your future wife? Did you have to bribe her into getting together with you? I can only imagine how much she's getting paid. Does she go all the way or is it like a real relationship?" Sherlock bombarded him with questions knowing it would upset soon enough. Surprisingly Mycroft kept his cool, " No, actually, she's genuinely here for you. As a matter of fact, who do you think she is?" Sherlock was confused by the statement, " She has no children, isn't in a committed relationship, has had some army experience," When Mycroft gave him a questioning lift of an eyebrow Sherlock retaliated by saying, " I'm most certainly sure, the way she holds herself, I don't know exactly what she did, she has so many possibilities, she's just different," and Sherlock nearly had a fit now having admitted that he couldn't fully deduce her. Mycroft nearly sighed and said in a knowing tone, " Maybe if you ask her nicely she'd tell you. " Sherlock nearly went into a stroke right there; his heart monitor certainly started beeping faster. "Yes the idea is revolting but did it ever occur to you that I may have given you all the wrong aspects of her, do keep in mind that the only reason you know certain things about her is because is because she's displayed it herself. All her clothing, even her purse, phone and anything on them were selected by somebody else so don't bother." That answered a lot of questions in Sherlock's mind, "So you're telling me I have to interact with her?" It was going to be a long day.

**Joan's POV:**

She stood right outside of the door hearing their conversation. She truly didn't want to have to go to Mycroft but Sherlock simply wouldn't believe her, and by the looks of it was going to take a while to convince him. When their conversation finally ended Joan felt glad somebody could get through to Sherlock. When Mycroft was under the doorway Joan gave him a warm hug and whispered to him her gratitude, Mycroft in response only patted her back. Mycroft left slightly flushed and looked a little lost. Sherlock on the other hand looked as though he was silently planning _somebody's_ death and would be enacted at the current moment.

She sat down in the chairs that were next the hospital bed and sat there waiting for him to say something. He stared at her and they sat there and Joan was getting impatient, but she wasn't going to give into Sherlock so isn't easily.

**Sherlock's POV:**

The feeling returned in his stomach when the girl hugged Mycroft who was blushing. It was rather odd experiencing it again. When she sat down Sherlock felt as though he should say something but he didn't want to look weak. He waited and waited and when he saw her look out the corner of her eye indicating she was to leave soon. When she started to get up, joints stiff from sitting, he forced himself to calmly say, "Wait, stay." She slowly nodded and sat down; he then cleared his throat and said, "What's your name?" She looked calm and told him, "Joan Watson, Captain, M.D." She looked the most modest he had seen someone as they said their credentials, that was after John. It turned out she too had a drunkard sister, a friend named Mike Stamford, and could recall to exact detail Sherlock and John's first meeting, she could event tell him what Vatican Cameos meant. Sherlock found it nearly too hard until she told him about things that weren't even mentioned in the blog, and John left nearly nothing to imagination. When he insulted her she would insult her, she would react like John, annoyed but patient. She glanced at the time, and was surprised to see a whole hour gone; she got up to be inquired yet again. " Where are you going? Are you leaving?" Despite his wariness toward her he liked her company, she made him feel like John did. Maybe she was John and Sherlock didn't know whether it was the fact that he was hopped up on enough on medicine to tranquilize a baby elephant but he genuinely had no doubt in his mind that the women sitting back down was John. "Goodnight John."

**Joan's POV:**

Joan wasn't at all surprised Sherlock was tired, minor head injuries did that, especially when coupled with Sherlock's sleep and eating habits. He passed out exhausted and she was overjoyed that he finally believed her. She considered leaving him but somehow couldn't bring herself to do so, she stayed to reassure him. She fell asleep next to his bed but slumped forward and ended up with her face next to his.

**Sherlock POV:**

When he woke up he was a bit startled to find Joan's face rather close to his but it didn't really bother him, having no concept of personal space. She looked like she was finally at peace until her nose and eyes started to twitch, and then Sherlock turned his full attention to her. He turned to his side and measured her repertory movements, the intervals between her eye twitches, and it all added up to a nightmare. Sherlock decided to pretend to be asleep so that when she woke up she wouldn't feel too intruded upon. Moments later, 2 minutes and 13 seconds later to be exact, she woke up. It wasn't a drowsy wake up it was a bump your head on something wakeup, luckily she didn't move into Sherlock. Joan then proceeded to lightly go through Sherlock's scalp in a manner he found relaxing. When she found his injury he was a twinge in pain but could deal with it. He opened his eyes and inquired in a cold voice, "What are you doing?" Knowing perfectly well what she was doing, "Examining your head." Then she left and left Sherlock bored. He couldn't wait to leave; he wanted out, he hated hospitals with living people, too many sad stupid people.

When Joan returned Sherlock was contemplating how many needles he could steal. She knew that look and said, " No, no, no, no, and did I say no? Sherlock you will not wreak havoc. Besides you can leave because why stay here when you have a personal doctor." She threw at him a new pair of clothes and told to hurry. One minor problem was in the way, he was still pretty weak. Joan helped him sit up and in the most doctoral fashion she took of his shirt. Sherlock had so many puns in mind he used one, " After dinners it's not always this quick, though I can't say I mind" whilst giving her a sly grin. " I've lived to see the day Sherlock has flirts with somebody for comedic purposes. That or it's the meds talking. Either way I could die happily today," she said as she buttoned the last button. She looked at his naked legs then back at him. She ordered him to stand up and with the help of a closed-eye Joan He managed trousers. Shoes weren't difficult but he wasn't entirely recovered. They left, ate a forced breakfast from Sherlock's point of view, and when the time arrived to go to Baker Street Joan got nervous.

When they finally made it inside the building, a rather hard task because Joan was supporting him, Mrs. Hudson nearly cried of joy. Then stopped dead when she saw Joan. " And who's this? Some bimbo you picked off the street? What happened to John? Don't tell me," and immediately the waterworks started and Joan felt like crap. She immediately went over to give Mrs. Hudson but was pushed away by Mrs. Hudson saying, "Get away! I don't want to get whatever you have, I already have my hip! Oh Sherlock, how could you forgot of John, but she does look an awful lot like John, so that I can understand." Joan thought of something she could say to make Mrs. Hudson believe, " Sherlock I thing I can feel England trembling, 221B isn't in it's best right now. _Maybe she should leave 221B to be safe…. From my diseases,"_ Sherlock caught on and said,

" Shame on you!"

" Shame on me?"

"Mrs. Hudson leave Baker Street? England would fall."

The realization came to her, " Sherlock is that… is that?" "Joan" finished Joan for her. "Oh John, how did this happen? You make such a lovely lady! Oh now you and Sherlock can hold hands in public without being ashamed or called out, you can," Joan then politely interrupted her, " We're still not a couple Mrs. Hudson. We weren't before either," but Mrs. Hudson wasn't listening she was too happy with the prospect of the wedding. They headed upstairs and Sherlock immediately fell on his seat. "Joan, get me some painkillers, preferably now by the rate you're going." She gave him two ibuprofens and he gulped them quickly. She left to her room despite Sherlock's protests and he sat there numbly waiting for her. His mind was a bit out of focus, which was a nice change. Had Joan not awoken him he wouldn't even had known he fell asleep. She took him to his room where he stood around for half a minute until he felt warm again, but after John's kidnapping Sherlock didn't like her leaving his sight, so he asked her to stay, and she did. He had a feeling of resolution as he drifted off to sleep, Joan next to him radiating heat.

**I didn't leave you on a cliffhanger, that's the cliffhanger! Thank you to all who comment,and please keep commenting and doing all those wonderful things you people do.**

**Finals! So I'll update when I can and as frequently as possible. Don't worry not too much time will pass. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Been a while hasn't it? Finals tend to do that. Sorry for not uploading sooner but here it is.**

Sherlock woke up in the middle of the night still a little drowsy but felt recovered, but knowing Joan she would make him do boring things, so he'd act a little bad. He was rather surprised Joan had agreed to sleep next to him, Joan wasn't particularly sentimental. Sherlock was just glad she was safe; he didn't want to lose his blogger again. She slept beside him remaining the soldier she was with her hands at her side, a little loose, but she kept vigilant evening her sleep. Her blonde hair was splayed out on the pillow, making it appear as though she was radiating sunlight. He decided he wanted to play his violin so he got up and located it in his closet. He went off into the living room and started to play ignoring the little shuffling noises he heard from his bedroom. When it was one in the morning he went back to bed to find Joan fully spread out. Sherlock to tired to care got in and pushed her aside earning a few grumbles but nonetheless she moved to her side.

When he woke up at seven thirty he found that Joan was still asleep, their distance had been reduced but not a considerable amount. He checked his phone and found nothing, so he went back asleep. The third time he woke up Joan was missing but he did hear the noises back in the living room. When he walked in he saw Joan freshly showered, tea in hand, and the daily newspaper in the other. Sherlock could now do every function properly but refused to act like he could. "Can you make me tea?" Sherlock asked as he sprawled on the sofa. Instead Joan simply scooted his tea towards him. He took it graciously and drank it. His phone buzzed to inform him of a case the idiots at Scotland Yard couldn't figure out, what a surprise. When he finished changing he noticed Joan hadn't made any inclination to get up.

" Come on Joan. There's a murder on the loose."

" I know, go deduce who it was." She said not even bothering to look up from her paper. Sherlock was confused, yes she would be a bit embarrassed having to explain she had changed genders but it truly didn't matter. He inclined his head towards the door urgently. Instead she just sat there staring at him and mimicked him, which angered Sherlock very much.

" Alright I'll leave without you, but when Lestrade calls because something bad happened, you are the one responsible."

" Sherlock, you are a responsible adult, besides if you're worried I'll disappear again you can calm down. I won't be leaving the flat."

" Yes but I still need my blogger."

She shot him a look and Sherlock left still a but mad he would have to go alone.

The crime scene was in a near an icy lake and the victim was a forty year old man who was killed by the daughter after several months of physical abuse. They arrested the poor girl who was stammering and sobbing a looked like she clearly regretted it all. Sherlock didn't bother with her, he could interrogate her later, and he wanted to take samples from the lake for an experiment. He took off his jacket and scarf knowing he would probably fall in but hoped he wouldn't. He had just finished with his second and starting on his third when he felt the frost start to slide beneath his feet, " Bloody hell!" After coming back up to the surface and put on his jacket only feeling slightly better. The drive was an hour long and Sherlock had no intention of getting Hypothermia. He called Joan in hopes that she would bring him clothing.

_Fell in a lake. I need clothing. Now. -SH_

How did you fall in a lake? Besides it's an hour away, just get a blanket. - JW

_There aren't any blankets, just get me clothes. Please. -Sh_

Just because you said please. -JW

_Location Sent _ _- SH_

I'm on my way. -JW

**Sherlock POV:**

When Joan finally arrived Sherlock felt as though science had been defied in too many ways. For once in his life Sherlock felt for a fleeting second that he could consider a deity, which was a strange until he saw Joan with a bag in hand.

_All behold the glorious Joan, beautiful, patient, friend, and the patron saint of all Sherlock Holmes, she alone will stand when denying relationships, homosexuality, or even both at once, all hail the brave Joan._ Instead he hissed, "Took you're sweet time didn't you? I have a fever thanks to your incompetent timing. Next time I suggest you come, why don't you come?" He then proceeded to mime her during their argument, she coolly replied by putting the bag to hear and saying,

" What's that? You're owner is a bloody arsehole? You think today's a beautiful day for a dip? Well who am to stop you, go on ahead not like a buggering idiot needs you." Sherlock just glared at her, snatched it out of her hands and started to unbutton his shirt.

"Why don't you change somewhere more discreet? Maybe even with heating, or at least to get away from the biting wind."

Sherlock found her point to be good and convinced the officers at the scene that he had urgent business and he needed to check the bathroom to see if the daughter truly was the killer. It took him a warm shower for him to properly deduce that it was indeed the daughter.

When he finally finished he had some business he had to finish so he went to Sally to tell her of his findings when she started plying Joan with questions,

" Who is this? Another college? Tell me darling is he forcing you to be here? Do you even know his name? Have you really gotten so pathetic Sherlock? Have some whore follow you around all day?"

Joan was getting tired of all the questions so she answered with,

" See you haven't changed, honestly Sherlock, what did you do? Also, still scrubbing at Anderson's, must have dirty floors by the looks of your knees."

Sally wouldn't leave, " Did you pay her to say that? You are a sad man, you know you're a freak right?" Joan didn't hear another word because she stormed off to talk to Greg.

Greg POV

When Greg noticed the petite blonde he nearly told her that it was a closed crime scene until he saw Sherlock rushing after her. _How did Sherlock get a girl like that? She seems smart but looks are deceiving. Maybe Sherlock finally moved on. _

Both of them arrived at the same time Sherlock had caught up and started ranting about something, most likely the stupidity of somebody. When they arrived Sherlock introduced her as a friend, " Joan, she works in a hospital." After the brief introduction Sherlock told him the remaining details and told him he was done for the day. Lestrade was still intrigued by the woman; she had no ring and looked free of any relationships. They both turned to leave but Lestrade held Sherlock back, "The blonde woman…" Sherlock replied hastily tripping over your words, "Not your type. At all. Believe me I've deduced her and you two wouldn't be very compatible." Greg knew Sherlock had good intentions for him so he nodded with a dejected note.

**Sherlock POV:**

Sherlock noticed the slight sadness in his colleague's mood but paid no attention. Once he found out the truth he would be thanking him. He saw Joan already at the car and rushed over. When he got in Joan was on the phone with somebody,

"That'd be great. Yeah. I can make it to eight. How about we meet there instead? No I insist, well I have this flat mate. No we're not together. At all. No he just tends to… He has a strong personality. No some people adore him and just don't. Yeah. Great. See you soon."

Sherlock was enraged,

"_Strong personality?" _

" What do you want me to say? 'Oh he's just an arsehole that knows your whole life just upon meeting you. Also when he deduces you, you'll most likely want to punch his face afterwards. It's hard to describe you."

Sherlock wasn't particularly mad, he was just mad he hadn't deduced she had a date.

" _So who's the lucky man?"_

" Actually it's a woman, after changing gender it helped me realize something. I want to be with somebody for their personality not their body. Although it does have influence, but not entirely."

Sherlock was shocked about her response. Was this just a simple overlap from when she was a man? Or was it permanent and she truly believed it? He was still deducing the situation when she asked him,

" How did you fall in the lake?"

"_Well, this concept you're quite familiar with, gravity simply pushed me into the lake, without even asking me!"_

After being shot a glare Sherlock admitted rather bitterly,

" _I wanted to get some samples so I got near, I got the samples so it wasn't for vain, and then I fell."_

" I hope your minor fever is worth the samples, because if you don't get treated soon you're in major trouble."

"_Oh please. I'll be fine. Besides this is just transport, just a means of getting my mind about."_

"Yes. Let me put it into simpler terms. You're a bloody idiot! Let me try again. If your body doesn't work because you don't care for it, your transport is useless ergo leaving your brain stranded."

Sherlock considered the thought for a moment. It made sense, but investing the time and effort into a healthy body was just too much.

"_Irrelevant."_

When they arrived to Baker Street Sherlock wasn't in a decent shape so he decided for once that sleep was a viable option. Really Joan and him had a row complete with yelling and huffing.

" I don't care if you don't like to sleep, you're gonna sleep!"

"_It's useless Joan, simply useless! I don't have the time to sleep, I have an experiment."_

"I don't care! You need to go to your room and go to sleep. For a good solid eight hours, at least. Besides I'd like to point out the only bloody reason you got sick is because you were a bloody arse. Not my fault you have no restraint."

They kept arguing, for several hours, until Joan finally threatened him with something that made him shut up,

" I'll hide all your nicotine. Every last patch and cigarette. Everything. I'll pay everybody off to."

Sherlock knew she wasn't kidding so immediately he went to bed without a word, just a few glares. Joan followed him in and sat in the corner to make sure he actually obeyed her orders.

He fell asleep after fifteen minutes and woke up at seven in the morning having gone to bed at nine. Joan was nowhere in sight, probably asleep in her own. He got up to check his blog for any potential clients, but decided to use Joan's for the task. He was always amused by the passwords she chose, his personal favorite was: SherlockKeepAway, and they all seemed to have the theme of him staying out. It took a minute to get in, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

Joan marched into the kitchen sluggishly and only noticed her laptop in his hands. Sherlock thought she was going to go into the usual about how her stuff belonged to her and how he had his own, but she just stood there and sipped her tea then turned on her heel and retreated back into the kitchen. Sherlock was rather astounded by her reaction, and wondered what was happening, maybe she was too tired to actually care. Perhaps she was going to use it against him and use one of his possessions, but for what everything he had was useless to her. So why? His answer came when she said,

"I'm only letting you because for once I would like to go to a date uninterrupted. So do refrain from calling me like a maniac, I quite like her."

The day went on without a single client and Sherlock's mind was running wild. He was bored and Joan wasn't being very helpful with her jitter's about her first date as a woman. When the time finally arrived she had a dress, a face with some makeup, and heels that truly didn't look comfortable. She looked fine but Sherlock felt as though something was off. This wasn't the Joan he knew, it was a Joan that couldn't run after criminals, one that would become charming, one that was fake and candied up, not his real Joan. She looked exceptional with the makeup she applied but somehow it just didn't look natural to him, to any other person sure, but to him he saw an illusion. That was what he saw, an illusion, a ghost of what the actual Joan was like and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

**I think I left it at a decent place. Better than some of my other chapters. It also wouldn't be complete if I didn't play ping pong with the POVs so there is that. Please do comment, follow and all the good stuff, it truly is appreciated. I'll try to update sooner, I promise.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Ok. This one is really short. But to make up for it I'll be posting on Valentine's Day with a Valentine's Day themed chapter. These last two have mostly been filler, but I do need character development for what I want, so please bear with me.** **More notes at the end.**

One Joan left Sherlock stalked to the window and watched her depart. He knew that she would most likely hit it off with the girl, and then Sherlock would have to endure all the things that came along,

"_Oh, Jessie's so sweet, she's a dentist. She also has a sister that's gay. I really like her, I hope she's the one."_

"_Can't Sherlock. Unlike you I enjoy people, and along with that tonight I have a date."_

" _Sherlock do try to not scare Nancy off, she's very pretty and smart, and you might like her."_

It always irritated Sherlock when John had a date, always running off. He hoped Joan wouldn't be like that, leaving him behind. Sherlock processed all of these things, subconsciously of course having kept his feelings for John and Joan so well hidden he mistook his jealousy as him trying to keep Joan from being distracted from their work.

After having met John, Sherlock discovered that it was better to be bored _with _somebody thanrather than alone. Instead of ruining Joan's date he decided to instead follow her around and take note of their interactions. With a little help finding Joan wouldn't be too hard,

_Mind doing me favor?_

_-SH_

**Sherlock, if she didn't tell you where she was going perhaps, I don't know, she didn't want you to tail her? Just throwing it out there. Or would you rather I remind you the amount of restraining orders filed against you?**

**-MH**

_Fine. I'll do it myself. I just didn't want to have to do all the work, but I guess I'll have to._

_-SH_

**Pity. I'm paying the world's smallest violin.**

**-MH**

_Why is she at Angelo's? Has she not learned her lesson? I think I'll have to go remind her what happened last time. I hope she doesn't give me a bruised eye this time._

**Sherlock don't. **

**-MH**

**Sherlock.**

**-MH**

Joan POV

Although she was rather reluctant to go back to Angelo's, she decided it couldn't be too bad. They chatted pleasantly and Joan remembered the days she was still John. It felt familiar to have a woman sitting across, making small talk, and eventually evaluating to see if another date was in order. Joan of course forgot the part where the madman walked in, raved on about something, embarrassed John, and then to stop from stirring more drama John would go with Sherlock.

When she saw Sherlock trying to look inconspicuous from across the street, Joan the whole mood suddenly drop. She waited until her partner was finished saying something to lean in and whisper, " You know what would be great? A tea from this place I love. I'm sorry I just jumped from the subject but we can't stay here or else the date's going to end rather quickly." She made a pointed glance toward Sherlock and said,

"He's odd. After we broke up he got… a bit clingy." Her date made an understanding nod and they rose and left with another couple. They safely evaded Sherlock who had lost them after they had walked next to a large group of tourists. Joan felt a bit bad about lying to her date, but if it meant a moment's rest she didn't feel too guilty.

Three hours later Joan left to go to Baker Street after their date had to go to an end. Sarah was a nice girl and she too was the medical field. They worked in the hospital that had hired Joan and she felt a little wary of their office romance. When she arrived to 221B two glaring eyes greeted her.

"_Do you have a death wish? Honestly I didn't think you were that stupid. I mean some things are acceptable but now you're just being careless."_

Sherlock's baritone chased her into the kitchen.

"Well maybe if I didn't have such a arsehole for a friend I wouldn't have to avoid you like the bloody plague."

"_Must I remind you what happened last time you ate at Angelo's?"_

"Look Sherlock, I bet Mycroft already took care of it."

"_And there's another thing, Mycroft. I bet you love having him around your little finger don't you?"_

"What are you talking about?"

This further perplexed Sherlock because she truly didn't know what he was talking about.

By now they were face-to-face, standing, and barely maintaining their countenance.

"_He's completely smitten over you! So is half the Yard for that matter."_

Joan upon hearing his observations blushed a little and said,

"How am I supposed to know when they're being friendly or just flirting? I don't know! Perhaps it's because I've been a woman for a single month, and in that time have spent little time actually interacting with people. And I know what you're going to say ' Well you once were a guy, why don't you know?'."

After finishing imitating him she sat down on her chair with her face to her drawn knees and just sat there for a while.

_Holding back tears, steady hands mean under pressure. Pressure from being a woman? Increase of breathing by two seconds, no nervous tics as of yet. Should I go make tea? Mmmmm…. Dull. Sentiment. Deleted._

Slowly Joan lifted her face up and went to make tea.

_Hot green tea with a moderate amount of milk and honey instead of sugar. She's going to sleep. _

They split ways Sherlock thinking about how make her forget like he did with the cane, and Joan crying herself to sleep over her wrecked life.

**I wasn't lying when I said short was I? Alas it is what it is, funny coming from the creator. Point being I think I'm going to make the holiday special longer than my usual ones so there's that. Thank you for reading and please comment, follow, and favorite.**


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